


Booster

by dietplainlite



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cooking, Gen, Parentlock, Sherlolly - Freeform, that dear perfection universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dietplainlite/pseuds/dietplainlite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Violet Hooper Holmes is not happy after a trip to the doctor, and Sherlock tries to make it better.  Same universe as That Dear Perfection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sundance201](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sundance201/gifts).



Violet sits on the work top, her arms folded across her chest, bottom lip stuck out, kicking her feet violently.  Her little purple trainers thud against the cupboard doors below, keeping time with the music as Sherlock digs through the refrigerator.

She sports a Captain America plaster on each arm, just visible beneath her short sleeved shirt, right above her dimpled elbows.

“You should have _told_ me.  I’m not a _baby_ ,” she says, momentarily forgetting that she told her father she would never speak to him again.

Sherlock takes out eggs and milk and sets them on the center island. 

“Violet,” he says.  “I didn’t want you to have to experience any anxiety beforehand.”

“Hmmph,” she says, turning her face away.  Her nose looks more and more like Molly’s every day.  “I’m not a baby and you know that.”

“Well,” he says, back to her as he looks for the vanilla extract, “I suppose you won’t want any eggy bread then.  Since it’s something you liked as a _baby_.”

She doesn't look at him directly but she does turn her head. “What?”

“Babies eat eggy bread.  But once you’re a big kid you have to eat coffee and Ready Brek. Or tea and plain toast.”  He shrugs. “I don’t make the rules.”

He realizes he may have gone a bit far when her lip starts to wobble, so he swoops her off the counter and gives her a good tickle.

“How about this,” he says, sitting her down again next to the eggs and milk.  “We say to hell with the rules.  And you can learn how to crack the eggs, just like Mummy.”

“Okay,” she says. 

“And I am sorry.  Next time I’ll tell you that we’re going for jabs.”

“Can we go to a different doctor?”

“What’s wrong with John?”

“I don’t want to cry in front of him.”

“You know, it’s okay to cry, even in front of John. I’ve cried in front of him numerous times. I think once it may even have been real. And if you like I can make him cry in front of you.”

“Okay,” she giggles.  “Can we eat now?”

He shakes his head gravely.  “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because we have to cook first!”

“Silly!” she says, shaking her head, the image of her mother.

Sherlock cups her head in his hands and kisses her on the forehead.  “The silliest.  And _you_ are the bravest.”

“I am, aren’t I?” she says, checking out her plasters and giving each one a poke. 

With Sherlock’s help, she puts on her apron and stands on the step stool.  He holds up an egg and shows her how to crack it on the bowl.  She’s nervous when he hands her an egg, her blue eyes widening, but she takes it in her chubby hand and cracks it against the bowl rim, tongue sticking out in concentration.  She clumsily pulls the shell apart and the egg plops into the bowl next to his, yolk unbroken and not a sliver of shell.

“I did it!” she says, practically vibrating with joy. 

“You did.”

“And it’s perfect, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Sherlock says, placing another quick kiss on the top of her head.  “Perfect.”


End file.
